


The Guardian of the Brodgar Stones

by Drogna



Series: The Hunt for the Heart [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 1970s, Gen, Rip and John are friends, RipFic, RipWeek 2020, Stone Circles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drogna/pseuds/Drogna
Summary: Rip knows that asking John Constantine to join the team is only going to lead to trouble, but after leaving behind Alexandria they need someone who understands magic. The team find themselves up against dark forces as they continue their search for the Starheart and journey to Orkney in 1978 to recover one of the most powerful magical items on Earth.Sequel to The Keeper of the Pharos Light.
Relationships: John Constantine & Rip Hunter, Rip Hunter & cat
Series: The Hunt for the Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809937
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	The Guardian of the Brodgar Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rip Hunter Appreciation Week 2020 - Day 2: Perfect Episode
> 
> Historical notes are at the end of the chapter.

***

Last time on Legends of Tomorrow…

*

Rip poured a glass of whiskey and looked into his drink as if all the answers might be found there. When he spoke it was hesitantly, although he became more definite as he continued.

“I’m still not certain, but I believe that it is something known as the “Starheart”. It is an orb that contains the residual energy of the Empire of Tears from a magical war fought millennia ago. I suppose it’s the equivalent of nuclear waste, but for magic. It was sent into the heart of a star and it stayed there until the sun died. It then travelled across space until it fell to Earth some time during the Neolithic period. Various people have tried to harness its power, but no one has ever succeeded or even discovered its location before now.”

“We’ve dealt with magical artefacts before. Is it really that much more powerful?” asked Kendra.

“Yes, and it isn’t good power, it’s corrupting and evil and very probably indestructible,” said Rip.

“Maybe we should tell John Constantine, ask him if he knows anything about it?” suggested Kendra.

Rip vehemently shook his head. “No, John must never know that I’ve located this, or even a clue to its location. He’d want to try to use it to fight his battles and it would end up destroying him. The temptation to a magic user would be too much. It’s better if I deal with it, but to do that I have to find it first.”

***

**

*

Rip stared at the scroll on the table, willing it to give up its secrets. Perhaps, he thought, he could compel it by mere force of intellect to enlighten him as to its meaning. It was possibly the only avenue left to him, bar the one that he still refused to consider. It felt as if the object was taunting him at this point, displaying the knowledge it held freely but keeping a further layer hidden for only itself.

“Staring at it isn’t going to help,” said Ray, making Rip jump as he came in.

Rip had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even heard the tall man approach. That was unusual. Rip was normally more alert and Ray wasn’t exactly light on his feet.

“I’ve been hoping for some kind of inspiration to strike,” said Rip.

Kepi, his recently acquired ship’s cat, stretched her long body out. She had been asleep in her bed and had clearly had enough of napping for now. She lightly picked her way across Rip’s desk, before jumping down onto the floor and making her way across the room to Rip’s legs. She rubbed up against him and then looked up at the Captain. She meowed twice.

“Is it that time already?” he asked the cat, as if she might talk back. “Or are you just trying your luck?”

“She is premature by thirty-seven minutes,” said Gideon.

“I thought so,” said Rip. “It’s not dinner time yet.”

Rip picked the cat up and gave her a scratch behind her ears, which resulted in a series of happy chirrups. Until recently, Kepi had spent most of her days in the lighthouse at Alexandria, but had adapted well to life on board the Waverider. She was most definitely Rip’s cat, seeking out his company whenever possible, but she didn’t seem to dislike the other Legends. She was open to being tickled under the chin or stroked by anyone who caught her in the right mood, but Rip was the one she followed around and it was his bed that she slept on at night.

Rip tucked Kepi into the crook of his arm and went to examine the scroll more closely. He gently placed her down on the table, continuing to stroke her fur absent mindedly as he looked over the papyrus again.

“We’ve been over everything, Rip,” said Ray. “Gideon’s examined the text for hidden codes, we’ve x-rayed it to look for hidden messages, we’ve tried to work out if it’s describing a place or time period. Nothing’s worked. Maybe it really is just a geography scroll.”

Rip shook his head.

“Zodiac knew what she was chasing,” said Rip. “She wanted this book. I’m missing something.”

“There is one last thing we haven’t tried,” said Ray.

Rip looked up at Ray warily.

“And what would that be?” he asked.

“Constantine,” said Ray.

The set of Rip’s jaw stiffened and he shook his head firmly.

“No,” he said.

“Rip, come on, you have to admit that we’re at a dead end. This is magical, and we need an expert in magic,” said Ray.

“I won’t bring John into this. The Starheart is not a force that I would ever want him to come into contact with. He wouldn’t survive the encounter,” said Rip.

“You don’t seem to put much faith in him,” said Ray.

“It isn’t about my faith in him. No magic user could resist the temptation that such an object presents, but John has always been someone who does what is necessary no matter the cost to himself and, sometimes, others. He protects people, but he uses whatever is available. He’s also a good friend, and as you’re aware, I don’t have many of those left. I would prefer not to lose another one,” said Rip, and then had a thought. He kept speaking as he went to one of the nearby piles of books on his desk and retrieved a leather-bound volume of some age. “Besides, John is not the only person who knows how to use magic. I can manage a little myself.”

Rip opened the book, lying it flat on the table and scanning down the contents.

“You can?” asked Ray, with surprise.

Rip would have been offended at his disbelief, but he was used to the Legends doubting his abilities in all sorts of areas. Admittedly he didn’t know much magic and it hadn’t exactly gone well the last time he’d tried to use some, but he didn’t need it often. He wasn’t the natural magician that John was, and although the warlock had taken him through the basics, he’d probably never get beyond being able to cast a few basic tricks.

“Captain, perhaps I should take this moment to remind you of Mr Constantine’s words the last time you tried to use magic.”

Rip glared in the direction of where Gideon’s avatar usually appeared.

“What was that, Gideon?” asked Ray.

“He said, and I quote, “magic should be left to the professionals”. Should I also remind you what happened to make him say that?” asked Gideon.

“That won’t be necessary, Gideon,” said Rip, sharply. “And this is a very simple spell.”

He found the page for the spell he needed – a spell of revealing. It should ensure that the papyrus gave up whatever hidden secrets it had. He should have thought of this earlier. It was only his reluctance to perform magic that had stopped him.

He ran a finger down the page, noting the instructions carefully. There was a chalk circle to be drawn with appropriate runes, light a candle, and say the words. It should be easy. John always said that magic was mostly about force of will, intention. As long as he bore that in mind he should be fine.

He searched out a piece of chalk from a drawer in his desk and sketched out the circle on the floor of the parlour, consulting the book carefully. He placed the papyrus scroll in the centre of circle and stepped back.

“Rip, are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Ray, nervously.

“I know what I’m doing,” said Rip, setting out six candles around the circle and lighting them.

He put the spell book on the table where Kepi nosed the corner and then stepped back as if it smelled bad. Rip gave her a quick tickle behind the ear and then began to intone the chant. It was a fairly simple Latin verse and he put everything he had into it.

“Occultatum revelare!” he declared, and the candles grew high for a moment.

There was a loud bang and a wave of air pushed itself out from the circle so forcefully that both Rip and Ray were knocked off their feet. The table was overturned and items went flying, including the six flaming candles. For a few moments everything was still and then alarms began to blare as smoke rose. Gideon’s fire suppression systems kicked in and the parlour was doused with fire retardant.

Rip’s head hurt, along with various other areas of his anatomy. He lifted his head up from the ground, carefully surveying the damage.

“Ray!” he exclaimed, looking around desperately for the other man.

A groan from near the central console alerted him to the fact that at least Ray was alive, and he saw an arm wave in his general direction. Then he had a horrible thought.

“Oh no! Kepi!”

He pushed himself up from his rather awkward position on the ground, ignoring the mess around himself. The table had completely overturned, which was where Kepi had been only moments ago.

“Kepi!” he called again.

A loud meow from a pile of papers was heard in response. Rip wobbled a little as he dashed over to where the noise had come from. He found Kepi standing on top of a pile of books behind an upended armchair and if looks could kill then he’d have dropped dead on the spot.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he said, picking up the cat and examining her for any injury.

He smoothed his hand over the fur and could detect nothing wrong. She didn’t seem to be in pain or sore when touched. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I see that the cat gets an apology,” said Gideon, crossly.

No Captain was added to the end of her comment, which meant that he was in big trouble. His shoulders fell a little, and he nodded his head contritely.

“I’m sorry, Gideon,” he said. “I should have listened to you.”

“Indeed you should have, Captain,” replied Gideon.

He tucked Kepi under his arm and went over to where Ray was disentangling himself from debris from the parlour.

“Are you okay?” Rip asked Ray, offering him a hand up.

“Yeah, just a few bruises I think,” said Ray, taking the hand and using it to balance himself as he stood.

Ray had just made it to his feet when the rest of the Legends piled onto the bridge at a run.

“What happened?” asked Sara.

“Ray!” said Kendra, heading towards her ex rapidly to examine the burgeoning bruise on his cheek bone.

“Man, this place looks like a bomb hit it,” said Jax, scanning the room with wide eyes.

“Indeed, or perhaps some kind of whirlwind,” said Martin, who was followed into the room by a silent, but angry looking, Mick.

“There was a slight mishap with a magical experiment,” said Rip, who was still carrying Kepi.

“Rip tried a spell on the scroll to see if he could get it to give up its secrets,” said Ray.

“I did tell you that it was a bad idea,” said Gideon.

“Yes, thank you, Gideon!” spat Rip.

He did not need his AI saying “I told you so” at this moment, even if it was justified. The Legends were already giving him a look that he didn’t like at all. He went over to where he’d placed the scroll on the floor and found that it was completely intact, with nothing on top of it or even near it. It hadn’t changed in any way, so unfortunately the spell had failed.

“Did it work?” asked Ray, with quickly hidden excitement.

“Not as far as I can see,” said Rip, with a sigh.

“Why the hell are you messing around with magic?” asked Sara, “that stuff is dangerous. I should know.”

Kendra nodded, seemingly satisfied that Ray was actually fine, and now turning her attentions to Rip.

“We’ve all seen what magic gone wrong can do,” said Kendra. “Both of you should go to medbay and get checked out. Kepi too.”

“I’m fine,” Rip replied, without giving the reply a lot of thought.

He had work to do.

“No,” said Sara. “We’re not accepting that and letting you handwave away this entire incident. You put all of us in danger, including yourself. You’re going to the medbay, even if I have to escort you myself.”

Rip rolled his eyes.

“And then we’re going to go see Constantine,” added Sara.

“What?” asked Rip. “Haven’t I made it abundantly clear that this artifact is too powerful for us to inform any magic user about? Even John Constantine.”

“At some point you have to start trusting people,” said Jax. “And by the looks of this, we need him.”

Kepi let out a meow that sounded very much as if she was agreeing with Jax.

“I’m pretty sure that together we can keep the Starheart safe,” said Kendra.

“We dealt with the witch in Egypt,” said Mick, gruffly as he thumped down in the nearest of the crew couches. “We can deal with the weasel in the coat if he double crosses us.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Rip. “The simplest course of action is to enlist John’s help with the scroll without explaining what the scroll finds.”

“Do you really think that will work?” asked Martin. “I’ve only met the man once but he does seem to be quite on the ball.”

“There’s only one way to find out, but I’ll need to be very careful what I say,” said Rip.

“No, we will,” said Sara. “I’m coming with you.”

“Fine,” said Rip, tersely. “Whatever you want.”

“Good, glad we’ve got that sorted out, now off to the medbay, all three of you,” said Sara.

She tickled Kepi behind the ear and Rip gave in. He did want to get his cat checked over at least, so he supposed he’d probably have to submit to a scan if he wanted any peace. He still had to deal with the mess in the parlour after that and he definitely didn’t want the Legends trying to help. He and Ray headed for medbay, an annoyed cat in his arms.

***

John Constantine did not like the convalescing that came after being injured, the inaction, the lingering pain that meant choosing between painkillers or whisky, the need to rely on others… but there were other things that he disliked more. Being lied to was one of them, and John got the distinct impression that Rip and Sara were lying to him.

He hadn’t managed to find out what they were lying about yet, but there was something about the small glances that they exchanged when they thought he wasn’t looking that suggested, at the very least, what they were telling him was not the whole truth. Given that he was only recently out of hospital and mostly spending his time sat on the sofa in front of the fire, he was in no mood for their bollocks.

“What do you two want? You haven’t recovered my stolen time orb or you’d have brought it with you, and you’re not here to give me a get well card, so spit it out,” said John, stiffly sitting back down on the leather sofa in the Mill House’s living room.

The mirror above the fireplace was showing him the last time Rip had been here, which was a while ago for both of them now. The most recent time he’d seen Rip was when the time traveller had visited him in the hospital. He’d been just out of surgery and barely knew what he was saying, but he had needed help to hunt down Zodiac. Chas had told him off afterwards for being stubborn and over-exerting himself after the operation, but he couldn’t leave a time orb in the hands of a woman who so clearly meant harm.

Chas had taken himself off to the kitchen this time, throwing out some excuse about making tea, but it was more likely he was just hiding from the drama that was no doubt about to ensue. Sara had a long tube in a leather bag that was slung over one shoulder, and it intrigued John. Also it most definitely wasn’t the shape of a time orb.

“I’m afraid that the time orb was destroyed along with Zodiac,” said Rip. “So we can at least report that.”

“Fan-bloody-tastic, mate!” said John, meaning the exact opposite. “They don’t grow on trees, you know. I had to search high and low for that damn thing and you manage to let the Wicked Witch of the West destroy it.

“As a point of fact, Kendra destroyed it,” said Rip, “when she killed Zodiac.”

“At least she killed the witch. I knew I shouldn’t have let you out on your own. You’ve always been fucking shite where magic is concerned,” said John, reaching for his cigarettes and tapping one out of the packet.

Rip gave him an annoyed look.

“You’re not wrong there,” said Sara, giving Rip a different annoyed look which blatantly said “I told you so”.

“What did he do now?” asked John.

“Should you be smoking right now?” asked Rip, definitely aiming to distract.

“Nothing wrong with my lungs, mate,” said John, and tersely added, “stop dodging the question.”

“He tried to cast a spell of revealing on a scroll and ended up destroying the parlour,” said Sara.

“That is an exaggeration,” said Rip, crossly.

John gave Rip a look and leaned back against the cushions of the sofa.

“You daft sod, what the hell did you do that for? You utter cockwomble,” said John.

Rip just looked like he’d had this conversation several times before and was very fed up with it.

“You’re the one that keeps saying any idiot can do magic,” said Rip, in protest.

“Yeah, with enough practice and training,” replied John. “Neither of which you have. Also, there’s something about you that magic doesn’t like. It can be picky like that sometimes.”

“Evidently,” replied Rip, sour faced by the verdict handed out.

“So you want me to do the spell instead?” asked John, knowing exactly where this was going.

“You’ve got to be better at it than Rip,” said Sara.

“What’s this scroll supposed to be revealing?” asked John

And there was the exchange of looks again.

“I don’t know,” said Rip, “that’s why we’re here.”

John was not having this. Although he’d known Rip to lie on various occasions, he was never terribly good at it when he knew the person. The lies themselves were believable, it was the way that he told them that somehow betrayed him. There was too much guilt in Rip any time he tried to lie to a friend.

John didn’t think that calling him on it was going to get him anywhere though. Sara was obviously in on this and she hadn’t stopped him. They needed John, but they didn’t want to tell him what was really going on. Therefore, the shortest way to get answers was probably to play along.

“I’d better help you find this thing then, whatever it is,” said John.

He saw the small frown on Rip’s forehead.

“What?” asked John.

“I thought it would be harder to convince you to help,” said Rip.

“We’re on the same side, mate, and I’ve got nothing better to do,” said John. “Chas doesn’t like me going off chasing demons when I’m not fully healed, but a bit of light spell casting should be fine.”

He suspected that Chas would disagree, but he wasn’t the boss of him, and John was bored. Chas was also not currently in the room, which was a good thing because he definitely wouldn’t have approved of the plan that was forming in John’s mind.

“Great,” said Sara, “let’s get this done then.”

She brought out the bag from behind her back and set out the scroll on the table. John leaned forwards, his fingers brushing over the parchment.

“This is Ancient Greek,” he said, looking over the inked letters. “What’s this “Ta Peri Tou Okeanou”? Things around the ocean?”

“Close enough,” said Rip. “I didn’t know you read Greek.”

“Not enough to be useful, but I know a few words and can pronounce a spell phonetically,” replied John.

It may have been his imagination, but he thought Rip looked a little relieved to hear that he couldn’t read the scroll. He and Rip regularly had arguments about his Latin pronunciation, but it was fine for spellcasting. He didn’t have the advantage of being able jump into a time machine and go natter with the natives. His Enochian was about as spot on as he could make it without actually conversing with an angel, which would have been inadvisable anyway because Enochian was a language where you had to be very careful what you said if you didn’t want consequences.

John got up from his position on the sofa, stiffly. He was still feeling the aches from his healing body, but he was recovering nicely all things considered. Being stabbed in the gut wasn’t a pleasant experience, and it had been compounded by being half suffocated to death and thrown against a bookcase, meaning he’d been concussed, broken a collar bone and his left wrist. It had been a close call this time.

“Give me a hand with the ingredients, mate,” said John, looking at Rip, “I’m still a bit sore.”

Rip nodded, definitely feeling a little guilty because he didn’t complain in the slightest about John ordering him around.

He headed over towards the bookcase where the Sword of Night sat on the side. Chas had put it there the last time they’d moved some things around. He remembered Chas holding it and giving him his honest opinion of John. He’d pretty much already known what his friend thought about him, but it had been interesting to have it confirmed.

He picked up the sword, ostensibly just shifting it out of the way of something he needed to reach.

“Here,” he said to Rip, “hold this for me while I move these books.”

Rip took the sword, wrapping his hand around the handle just as John had hoped he would.

“Now, tell me what this is really all about,” said John, almost conversationally.

“I can’t be absolutely sure, but I believe that the scroll gives directions to finding the Starheart,” said Rip.

Rip’s mouth dropped open with horror and he immediately dropped the sword like his hand had just been burned.

“You utter bastard,” said Rip, angrily. “How dare you trick me into telling you that.”

John just regarded Rip with his arms folded over his chest, not budging an inch.

“What just happened?” asked Sara.

“The Sword of Night,” said John. “Whoever holds it is compelled to tell the truth when answering a question, and if you’d told me the bloody truth in the first place then I wouldn’t have used it. You always have to have your bloody secrets, don’t you? Once a Time Master, always a Time Master.”

“It’s violation of trust and you know it,” spat Rip, managing to look both furious and hurt at the same time, but John wasn’t going to feel sorry for him at this point.

“Yes, well, given that you’re chasing down the fucking Starheart, maybe people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones,” said John. “You obviously reckoned you couldn’t trust me with that little piece of information.”

“You’ve heard of it?” asked Sara, with a little surprise.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. I always thought it was just a story. Even in my circles, it’s one hell of a tall tale,” said John.

“Not in mine,” replied Rip. “This scroll was what Zodiac wanted. She hoped it would lead her to what the text calls the “meros”. My research all points to this being the Starheart described in the legends.”

John picked up the sword from the floor, groaning at the effort, and being careful not to touch the handle. He put the item back on the shelf.

“I suppose we’d better work out what this thing has to say for itself then,” said John.

“I’m not sure that this is such a good idea now,” said Rip.

“Look, you can’t crack this yourself,” said John, “and if you take it anywhere else then they’re going to have the same questions that I did. They might be less polite about asking them too.”

“You make a fair point, but I dislike your methods,” replied Rip, with a gesture towards the sword.

“I never asked you to like anything,” said John, still annoyed. “Next time just tell me the truth upfront.”

He resumed collecting up the ingredients for the spells, and ignored the way Rip was pouting. He picked up the candles and then the chalk to draw the circle. This was a basic spell, one that he’d done a hundred times before and knew off by heart without needing to check his books.

“Do me a favour and draw the circle out for me on the floor around the table,” said John, handing Rip the chalk by slapping it again his chest. “Since I know you’ve done it once already.”

Bending down was still something that required effort, and picking up the sword had been enough. Rip took the chalk without a word and drew out the circle, adding the symbols around the edge. John was reasonably impressed by the job he had done, but he double checked his work anyway. Then he sprinkled the required mixture of herbs on the manuscript and handed the candles to Sara.

“Space them around the edge equally, love,” said John.

Sara placed the candles on the ground and John rolled up his sleeves. He centred himself, got into the right headspace, felt the idea behind what he wanted the spell to do, shaped it in his mind and spoke the incantation. The simple Latin spell came to his lips easily.

“Occultatum revelare!” he chanted the final words.

There was a slight breeze and the candles went out. John’s jaw tightened. The scroll was fighting him. The herbs he had scattered were shifting like the sands of a drifting dune, and he concentrated on the words again, saying them over in his mind and whispering them as they spilled over and out into the world. Rip definitely hadn’t stood a chance with this one. It wasn’t going to let an amateur reveal its secrets. There was an energy here that John had never felt before, and it spoke of a bigger power that had somehow tainted this papyrus.

“Occultatum revelare!” he shouted, commanding this time.

The herbs swirled in a miniature whirlwind and then settled on the scroll, energy expanding outwards as they touched down on the papyrus. It caused all three of the watchers to take a step back and John found himself toppling, only to be caught by Rip.

“Are you okay?” asked Rip, as John panted at the exertion.

“So much for some light spell work,” said John, shaking off Rip’s help and moving forwards to examine it. “I’ve never experienced a force like that before. It fought back, didn’t want to reveal its secrets.”

He looked down at the scroll. Certain words were now glowing, indicating that this had been some kind of hidden cypher.

“Well, whatever you did, it worked,” said Sara.

John frowned and held out a hand towards the scroll. The energy that he’d felt made more sense now that he thought about it. The papyrus must have come into contact with energy from the Starheart, which was alien in origin, so of course he’d never experienced anything like it before. His head snapped up to look at Rip, this was something else. He had once even looked into it himself before dismissing it as having too little evidence to be worth pursuing.

Rip already had a notebook out and was scribbling down the words, somewhat oblivious to John’s moment of realisation.

“Are you going to tell me what it all means?” asked John.

“I’m not sure that would be wise,” said Rip, tucking the pencil and notebook back into his jacket. “We’ll leave you to your convalescing.”

“Oh no you don’t,” said John. “You don’t get to come waltzing in here with your bloody magical scavenger hunt and then treat me like I’m a spell vending machine. I’m coming with you.”

“John…” began Rip.

“I hope you parked close. I’m still kind of stiff,” said John, rolling down his sleeves, looking around for where he’d left his tie and bag.

“You’re not coming with us,” said Rip, in that low serious tone he had that brooked no argument. “This is very dangerous. Zodiac almost killed you and you’re obviously not completely recovered.”

“I’m recovered enough, and you need me,” said John. “You lot are as sensitive to magic as a brick.”

“No,” said Rip. “This isn’t up for debate. I can’t explain, but you of all people, cannot be involved in this.”

“Me, “of all people”? What the hell does that mean?” asked John, close to reaching his limit of nonsense for today.

“It means that we are dealing with forces that could be very dangerous to you personally, John,” said Rip.

“It sounds like you’re out of your depth, sunshine,” said John, stepping into Rip’s personal space.

Rip hated that, John knew from experience, but he didn’t back away. He was apparently prepared to stare John down if necessary. Then he blinked.

“This was a very bad idea,” said Rip, glancing at Sara. “I should never have let you talk me into coming.”

“Hey, we got what we came for,” replied Sara, with a shrug. “I’d say that this worked out pretty well, and I think John’s right. We need him, because if the map to this thing was that well protected, imagine what the actual place is going to be like. I don’t like going after something like this blind.”

Rip turned to Sara with a rather betrayed look. John knew that he’d won.

“Fine, you can come, but you need to understand that I’m not overstating when I said that this is a particularly dangerous item to anyone who is sensitive to magic,” said Rip.

John stepped back, palms out in a gesture of peace.

“I got it the first time. I’m not a bloody amateur. I’ve been studying magic since I was a stupid teenager in a crappy punk band,” said John. “No one knows better than me how quickly it can all go tits up if you take your eye off the ball.”

“And yet you keep finding yourself in situations that could have been avoided if you’d been willing to do things properly,” said Rip, which John found just a little hurtful.

“I’ve pulled you out of a few tight spots, haven’t I?” asked John, finally noticing his tie had fallen down the back of a cushion.

He retrieved the item of clothing and put it on. He never felt dressed without it.

Again, Rip and Sara exchanged a look and Sara gave a small shrug. Rip let out a long sigh.

“I suppose you have,” he said, rather grudgingly.

“We’d best get going,” said John. “There are going to be other people after this. There always are when there’s an object this powerful on the board.”

“Agreed,” said Rip. “Time is of the essence.”

John smirked at the inadvertent pun. He slapped Rip on the back and went to pack his bag.

***

“Where are we going then?” asked John, as he dropped his bag down in the parlour.

The Legends had once again assembled to discuss the papyrus scroll that seemed to be the key to everything. Kepi was asleep in her bed on the top of the bureau, although occasionally she would stretch and open her eyes to see what was going on before settling back down. She was quite used to the team coming together in the parlour and had been known to jump up on the table to sit on top of whatever was being discussed.

“Good question,” said Martin. “the cypher that you uncovered translates as “under the stone ring on the island of seals”. It seems that whoever left this clue expected the reader to understand it.”

“I brought a book that might be helpful,” he said, going to his bag, pulling out a volume with a worn leather binding, and bringing it back to the table as he flicked through it to the right page. He found the extract and read it out. “The heart of a star, which carries within it the green flame of life, whispered to those around it, so it was buried under a magical ring of teeth. It was full of tears and echoes which sent those mad who listened.”

“Yeah, that’s _so_ helpful,” said Sara, sarcastically. “Who knows what that means?”

“No, I think that actually _is_ helpful,” said Rip. “Soeris told me she’d read the something similar in the scroll itself. I just hadn’t put two and two together until now.” Rip pulled out his notebook. “I think it’s talking about a ring of standing stones. We also know that the manuscript is discussing the North of Britain because that’s the area of the voyage described in Ta Peri Tou Okeanou.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” said John, with a nod. “Stone circles were considered to be magical by a lot of cultures. That’s a start, but there are a few of those in Britain, somewhere over a thousand sites at last count. Even if we narrow it down to the North then we’re still talking hundreds.”

“Indeed, but the cypher tells us it’s the “island of seals”,” said Rip.

“Yeah, I hate to break this to you, but there’s a lot of those buggers around the coasts too,” said John.

“The island of seals,” said Rip, “is what Orkney was known as by the Vikings. Orkneyjar – island of the seals.”

“Great, less ground to cover, but Orkney’s littered with bloody Neolithic sites with ritual and magical significance. It’s an old land,” said John. “I looked into Maeshowe once as a site for a ritual I needed to perform.”

“You need to slow down,” said Kendra. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know where Orkney is.”

“Yeah, me neither,” said Ray. “Well, it’s somewhere off Scotland.”

“It’s an island off the northern tip of Scotland,” said Rip. “Gideon, could you bring up the map and remind me about the stone circles of Orkney, it’s been a while since I was that far north.”

“Yes, Captain,” replied Gideon.

A map appeared on the screen showing the largest island in the group that were called the Orkney Isles, which was indeed in the sea to the north of Scotland.

“There are three large stone circles, two of which are still standing in your time and numerous neolithic monuments and settlements,” said Gideon. “As Mr Constantine mentioned, there is a chambered tomb at Maeshowe which is of particular interest because the sun shines down the passageway of the tomb on the winter solstice. Very little is understood about the origins of this landscape and why it was built, and there has been a great deal of speculation engaged in as to how the stone circles were erected.”

“We could go back and find out?” asked Jax.

“As interesting as that would be, it isn’t our mission here,” said Rip. “We need to locate the Starheart and dispose of it safely.”

Rip glanced pointedly in John’s direction, but the man just returned the glance with an affronted look, resting back on his heals with a slight incline of his head to the side.

“Okay, Orkney,” said Sara. “How far back do we want to go? When were those stone circles even erected?”

“It’s impossible to know,” said Rip, “but we’re talking several thousand years BC. It’s not a jump that I want to make when John is still recovering from his injuries. However, I don’t think we need to go very far back at all. I’ve done some research and during the late 1970s there was a geological survey being conducted for a potential mining operation near Stromness, which is in the area of the three main sites of stone circles on Orkney. There were many reports of the surveyors experiencing strange occurrences, equipment failures and things going missing. I think that if we’re looking for the Starheart then that’s the best place to start.”

“Did they disturb the ground?” asked John.

Rip nodded. He’d read the reports and it indicated that some trenches had been dug to get samples.

“That would explain it then,” said John. “Something’s restless there.”

“Are you telling us that there are ghosts?” asked Jax, with a very worried look on his face.

“If there are then they’re probably the least of our worries. Ghosts I can deal with,” said John. “It’s whatever else might be there that worries me more.”

Rip definitely agreed there. If the mythology was true, the Starheart was one of the most powerful items in the galaxy. This was not going to be easy.

***

Orkney was full of wide, open spaces and had many lightly undulating landscapes, so it wasn’t that much work to find somewhere inconspicuous to set the Waverider down. Rip chose a location near Stromness so that they didn’t have far to walk in order to find the survey team, and in the other direction was the Ring of Bookan, the Ring of Brodgar, the Stones of Stenness and Maeshowe to name just a few of the locations that comprised the Neolithic heritage site at the heart of Orkney.

Rip split the team into two. He took Ray, Mick and Kendra to talk to the survey team, while John, Sara, Jax and Martin went to look at the stone circles. He didn’t know what either team would find at this point, but he was very glad of his long coat on this occasion as the Orcadian winter came with a bitingly cold wind. Grey clouds covered the sky and promised rain, but as yet they hadn’t delivered.

They heard the chanting a while before they reached the area which Rip’s information told him was the current location of the survey team. As they crested a rise they could see exactly what was going on. People were stood behind a roped off area shout and waving placards that said “No Uranium in Orkney”, “Uranium Never, Orkney Forever” and nuclear warning symbols crossed through. A few policemen were scattered along the rope, keeping the protestors away from the small group that were working on the other side.

“It’s an anti-nuclear protest,” said Kendra.

“I don’t remember reading anything about an anti-nuclear protest,” said Rip. “The 70s really were quite an eventful time.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Ray.

There was loud jeering as an expensive car pulled up and a few important looking men in smart black overcoats disembarked. They seemed to be seeing how the trench digging was going, and perhaps inspecting the site. One of them was apparently being shown the work, and he had the bearing of a man who was used to getting his own way or at least of having his instructions followed.

“I wonder who they are?” asked Kendra.

“Perhaps we should find out,” said Rip. “Kendra and Mick, could you mingle with the protestors and see what you can find out. Ray and I will see if we can find out more from the surveyors.”

The party split in two again. Rip and Ray approached a man with a clipboard who seemed to be in charge. They had previously prepared identity cards that suggested that they were from the Highlands and Islands Development Board, which had been partly responsible for why the surveyors were here.

“Hello, I’m Michael Hunter and this is Raymond Palmer,” said Rip, producing his ID.

The man looked over the cards.

“Foreman, Iain McQuaid,” said the man, in a thick Highlands accent, and offered a hand to shake, which both men accepted. “To what do we owe the honour?”

“We’re just here in an oversight capacity,” said Rip.

“There’s a lot of that going on here. Colonel Lothian’s here an’ all,” said McQuaid.

“Ah, that’s who that is. I did wonder if it might be. We’d heard that there had been a few incidents,” said Rip.

“Ach, it’s the bloody protestors, but it’s nothing but a few hidden tools,” said McQuaid, “they’re not even stealing anything. One of the JCB drivers said they tampered with the machine, but I could nae see a thing wrong with it. This is an unforgiving place for machinery. It’s not the first thing that’s stopped working. Probably just worn parts and the bosses cutting corners with the replacements. They’re a sneaky lot, I’ll give them that. We’ve never caught a one of them on camera yet.”

Rip exchanged a glance with Ray.

“Would it be okay if we saw the footage from the tapes? Perhaps we could have copies?” asked Ray.

“I suppose that could be arranged if you talk to the site manager,” said McQuaid. “Tell him you’ve okayed it with me.”

Ray nodded.

“Thanks,” said Ray. “I’ll do that.”

Rip and Ray moved away towards the portacabin that held the site office.

“Get the tapes and take them back to the Waverider for analysis,” said Rip. “I need to see what Kendra and Mick have discovered.”

“Okay, no problem,” said Ray, “just be careful. These things can turn nasty sometimes.”

Rip looked back at the handful of police and the group of ten times the number of protestors, mostly middle-aged ladies wearing practical boots, wool coats and headscarves.

“I think if it was going to do that then it already would have,” said Rip. “I’ll see you back on the ship.”

Rip left Ray to talk his way into the site office and collect the surveillance tapes. He stepped under the rope that separated the site from the protestors and located Kendra and Mick amongst the placard wavers. Mick seemed to have already made a few friends and was regaling everyone with stories about his various escapes from the law. Kendra was looking on in a bemused fashion but occasionally cutting Mick off before he mentioned something he shouldn’t.

“How’s it going?” Rip asked Kendra, after he had edged his way into the crowd.

“Pretty well,” said Kendra, quietly. “It turns out that Mick is a natural anarchist. The guy who arrived in the big car is Colonel Gareth Lothian, he’s the local Laird. He owns most of the land around here, including two of the three stone rings. He commissioned the survey and is hoping to sell the land for the mine. That depends a lot on what they find, of course.”

“Of course,” said Rip.

“They’re doing the survey to because they detected uranium, hence all the anti-nuclear banners. They want to mine it out. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

Rip frowned.

“I don’t know at this point, but it does seem unusual. There aren’t many uranium deposits in the UK,” said Rip. “This is rather convenient at the very least.”

“And I thought you might be interested to learn that he served in Egypt with his battalion during the 2nd World War,” said Kendra. “He even has some Egyptian artifacts on display at his home.”

“That is definitely interesting,” said Rip.

“Apparently the protestors are heading back to the local pub to discuss their tactics, they said the Ferry Inn,” said Kendra.

“Okay, I want you to go with them. They’ve been close to whatever this is and they may know more useful information,” said Rip. “Come back to the ship when you’re done and try to keep Mr Rory out of trouble.”

Kendra glanced over at Mick, and raised an eyebrow.

“Just do your best,” said Rip.

“Okay, and what are you going to do?” asked Kendra.

“Ray is attempting to get some surveillance tapes…” began Rip.

The radio is Rip’s ear sparked to life.

“Rip?” said Sara’s voice. “We could use you help.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“Just get here,” said Sara.

“On my way,” replied Rip.

He spotted Lothian returning to his very expensive car and for just a second the man turned. He seemed young to be a Colonel, but Rip could be wrong on that. He had blond hair and blue eyes like many Orcadians, quite a few of whom had Nordic ancestry. He seemed to zero in on Rip for just a moment, his eyes brighter than they had any reason to be in the grey daylight of the cloudy sky. Then he turned away again, and got into his car.

Rip frowned.

“Why do I know that name?” he muttered to himself, as he strode away from the survey site.

Colonel Gareth Lothian. He turned it over in his mind, and came up blank. He’d ask Gideon when he returned to the ship. The light was fading now and his team needed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Historical notes:  
> From 1977 until 1980 there was an ongoing campaign in Orkney against the mining of Uranium, which was a natural deposit discovered in a general survey earlier in the decade. The mine was to be somewhere in the vicinity of Stromness on the largest of the Orkney islands. This proved to be extremely unpopular with everyone and eventually the idea was scrapped.
> 
> Orkney has a wealth of neolithic sites and archaeology, but more about that in the next chapter.


End file.
